


a matter of choice

by treescape



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape
Summary: But truly, it was difficult to be patient when one had trembled on the edge of a precipice, wanting, for what felt like it might have been decades.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 41
Kudos: 247





	1. Chapter 1

It hadn’t surprised him that Qui-Gon liked to tease. For a man who always lived in the moment, it seemed fitting indeed: Qui-Gon could stretch the barest of instants into aeons.

Obi-Wan would be lying if he said he minded in any way, shape, or form. But truly, it was difficult to be patient when one had trembled on the edge of a precipice, wanting, for what felt like it might have been decades.

His body hovered over Qui-Gon’s on the couch, thighs spread with delicious tension around Qui-Gon’s hips. Obi-Wan’s clothing was long gone, although Qui-Gon somehow retained his own trousers. Obi-Wan didn’t plan to let that stand for long, but for now, the soft abrasion of fabric on his skin was one of the only things grounding him.

Besides, _disheveled_ had always been a good look on Qui-Gon. In his half-undressed state, hair loose and lips slightly parted as he watched Obi-Wan for every reaction, he was like something out of a dream.

Qui-Gon’s fingers trailed up the underside of Obi-Wan’s cock before forming into a loose grip for the downstroke. It was just relaxed enough that it wouldn’t be enough to bring Obi-Wan off, not for a long time.

Obi-Wan knew, because they had been here, like this, for long enough that time felt distorted.

Obi-Wan tilted Qui-Gon’s head so that he could bring their mouths together. His lips already felt full and aching, tender with sensation. The press of lips drew a soft sound from Qui-Gon’s throat and Obi-Wan pressed his advantage, drawing Qui-Gon’s tongue into his mouth and hoping that the slick suction would inspire Qui-Gon to hurry.

It backfired spectacularly. Obi-Wan felt his own balls tighten further, felt the almost lightheadedness that came with wanting _so much_ , but Qui-Gon did not hasten at all.

Obi-Wan hung there, just on the edge of ruin. It was agony and delirium all wrapped into one.

Obi-Wan drew back and shifted, trying to find an angle that would give him more pressure. “Qui-Gon, please.”

Qui-Gon’s fingers pressed under the head of Obi-Wan’s cock, but then they were moving again. His other hand pressed up into Obi-Wan’s hair, through strands that were well on their way to growing out of the padawan cut.

Finally, he took mercy.

“I will give you two options,” Qui-Gon breathed, and the roughness in his voice would go down in history as Obi-Wan’s greatest triumph. 

“Does one of those options involve you hurrying up?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon said with the smile of a man who had very definite plans. “One of them does.” The pad his thumb rubbed, for one blessed instant, back and forth against the head of Obi-Wan’s cock. “Option one is that I finish you right now.” 

Obi-Wan’s body rocked forward, trying to chase the brief touch. “I pick option one,” he replied immediately. Gods, _Force_ , he couldn’t bear it. Let Qui-Gon make him come, finally, and he would bring the man every moon and star in the sky.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear what option two is?”

Something in Qui-Gon’s voice made Obi-Wan’s throat go dry, and suddenly, he thought he might be ready to beg for the second option without even having heard it.

Qui-Gon must have seen something in his face, because he continued. “The second option,” he murmured, and there, _pressure again just for a second_ , “is that I will continue as I am until you have opened yourself to my satisfaction.” The hand in Obi-Wan’s hair withdrew and reached into the corner of the couch, between the back and the cushion. A moment later, Obi-Wan felt the cool touch of plastic against his thigh, and knew without looking that Qui-Gon had located the lube. “If you can manage to last that long, then….”

Obi-Wan’s breath stuttered in his throat; Qui-Gon could be very thorough. _To his satisfaction_ could take ages.

Obi-Wan knew there would be no judgement or disappointment if Obi-Wan chose the first option; Qui-Gon would bring him off with an eagerness that rivaled Obi-Wan’s own.

But the thought of how it would feel for Qui-Gon to press slowly into his body after so long on edge…

Obi-Wan braced himself unsteadily against Qui-Gon’s shoulder, and his voice shook a little, too. “Give me the lube.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the last chapter, this is just…pure, unrepentant porn. I’m not sorry. It picks up right where the first chapter left off.

Obi-Wan had all of about fifteen seconds to collect himself while Qui-Gon stood to divest himself of his trousers. Then Qui-Gon was back, urging Obi-Wan down to the couch with the solid weight of his body. Qui-Gon kissed him in a slow press of lips and tongue that almost made Obi-Wan forget what he was supposed to be doing.

Then Qui-Gon shifted, propping himself up a little against the back of the couch so that he was only half-draped over Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was giving him room to work, Obi-Wan realized, and the thought made him go hot all over. This would be much easier in a bed, practically speaking, but something about how closely Qui-Gon was pressed up against him, about how difficult it was to gain more than a modicum of separation in the close space, made Obi-Wan’s heart beat a little faster.

By the time Obi-Wan was two fingers deep, angling carefully so as to avoid his own prostate, he was wondering how he was going to survive this. The pressure of his own fingers as they worked their way in and out of his body was almost enough to bring him over the edge—and if it hadn’t been, Qui-Gon wasn’t helping matters, because he certainly hadn’t let up his own ministrations. Obi-Wan looked down his body, feeling a little dazed, to where Qui-Gon’s thumb was gently rubbing a sticky bead of moisture back into the head of his cock. 

Qui-Gon trailed his hand down from Obi-Wan’s cock to where Obi-Wan’s fingers were moving with less and less precision on every stroke. Gently, he circled those fingers as they came to a stop, and then he smiled. “One more, I think,” he murmured against Obi-Wan’s cheek.

The desperate sound Obi-Wan uttered earned him a brief kiss. “Shall I help you?” Qui-Gon asked, and when Obi-Wan nodded his head almost frantically, he felt the other man reach away for the lube before one of Qui-Gon’s fingers, long and blunt, pressed in alongside Obi-Wan’s on the next stroke.

Obi-Wan’s free hand reached up to curl around the back of Qui-Gon’s neck, up under the loose fall of his hair. He worked to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure of having some part of Qui-Gon in him again.

For the first few strokes, Qui-Gon was content like that, simply moving his finger in time with Obi-wan’s two. On the fifth stroke, he used the inward slide to carry all three fingers along until they settled against the spot Obi-Wan had been avoiding out of self-preservation. Obi-Wan gasped aloud, almost panting into the haze of sex surrounding them. His feet pressed down against the couch beneath him, scrabbling against the fabric as he tried to angle his hips to bring him closer to Qui-Gon.

“Here,” Qui-Gon murmured, and he pressed more firmly for one glorious second before easing back. “If you can wait just a moment longer, I will be here.”

Briefly, for an instant, Obi-Wan felt another of Qui-Gon’s fingers brush against his stretched rim. It caught against one of Obi-Wan’s own knuckles as Qui-Gon slowly guided their combined fingers almost all the way out. Somehow, crazily, it made Obi-Wan's hand feel almost as sensitized as his cock.

Obi-Wan hung, suspended on the very edge of time and sanity, as he waited to see if Qui-Gon would work a second finger—a _fourth_ finger—in.

Qui-Gon’s lips skimmed the curve of his cheekbone and then down his face to the slant of his chin. “Perhaps next time,” he said hoarsely, and then Obi-Wan felt emptiness when Qui-Gon pulled their fingers the rest of the way out and brought their joined hands up to press against the cushion beside Obi-Wan’s head.

It was gratifying to know that Qui-Gon couldn’t wait any longer, either.

“All that remains,” Qui-Gon said, his voice heavy with want, “is for you to tell me. Do you want it like this, spread out beneath me so I can take my time? Or do you prefer to ride me, to take me all at once and wring pleasure from us both?” Nothing at all in his voice hinted at which he would prefer. Qui-Gon liked to take his time, liked to tease, but Obi-Wan knew he liked fast and hard, too. Qui-Gon seemed to like anything they did together.

Obi-Wan thought about it, thought about kneeling up over Qui-Gon again and sinking down onto him, screwing himself against Qui-Gon’s length until Qui-Gon came apart beneath him.

But Obi-Wan knew he wasn’t going to last through more than a few strokes, anyway, and the slow pace of their lovemaking had somehow seeped into his bones.

“Like this,” he said hoarsely, and almost before he had finished speaking Qui-Gon had settled his weight fully onto Obi-Wan and was pressing inexorably into him. He kept his earlier promise, because his cock unerringly glanced over Obi-Wan’s prostate on the first stroke, and before the second stroke was fully completed, Obi-Wan was gone.

And if Qui-Gon didn’t last much longer—well, he was only human, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not promising there won’t be a third chapter for the morning after at some point


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slow morning after.

Obi-Wan woke to sunlight and warmth and the familiar expanse of Qui-Gon’s bed.

More importantly, of course, he woke to the beat of Qui-Gon’s heart against his cheek, and the weight of Qui-Gon’s arm about his waist, and the spread of Qui-Gon’s fingers on his back. Obi-Wan made a faint noise of contentment and burrowed in closer, inhaling the scent of Qui-Gon’s hair as it fell around them. These slow, lush mornings, when they were both on Coruscant with nowhere else to be, were moments he squirreled jealously away. They were memories he brought out in the lonely depths of space, repeating them in his mind like the components of a litany.

“There you are.” Qui-Gon’s voice held no lingering traces of sleep, and Obi-Wan wondered just how long he had been awake. Quite some time, it was possible; Obi-Wan had done it himself, before, holding Qui-Gon for long breathless minutes that stretched to infinity in the early light of morning.

“If you wanted something,” Obi-Wan rasped against Qui-Gon’s chest, watching as one nipple pebbled to alertness at the touch of his voice, “you could have just woken me.”

“And miss the sweet sound of your snoring?”

He stretched a little, enjoying the way his legs twined with Qui-Gon’s. “Imitation, flattery.” Qui-Gon didn’t snore, but then again, Obi-Wan was pretty sure he didn’t, either. It earned him a light pinch to the side, though, just enough that it made Obi-Wan huff a small laugh.

Silence reigned for a moment, and then Qui-Gon’s fingers trailed slowly down his back, dipping into the crease of his ass to trace gently over his hole. Obi-Wan held his breath, waiting to see if Qui-Gon would go further, but his fingers simply rubbed back and forth over his entrance.

“How sore are you?”

“Not nearly as sore as I’d like to be.” He liked being able to feel it for hours, for _days_ , and Qui-Gon knew it. Obi-Wan shifted, trying to angle his body in a way that would encourage Qui-Gon’s fingers to press inside. He was hard against Qui-Gon’s thigh, had _been_ hard since before he’d come to wakefulness. But Qui-Gon was too, and there was a world of promise in the way he pressed himself lazily back against Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon’s lips curved into a smile against Obi-Wan’s temple. His fingers disappeared momentarily; when they returned, slick with lube, they sunk slowly past his rim without any further preamble. Obi-Wan was still open enough from the night before that it didn’t hurt, precisely, but the stretch was delicious enough to make his cock twitch.

“Let me tell you exactly what I’d like to do to you,” Qui-Gon murmured, and Obi-Wan wondered vaguely if he could just bury himself in the sound of that voice. Qui-Gon withdrew his fingers just as slowly as they had gone in, but reversed the slide before they had halfway left Obi-Wan’s body as if he couldn’t yet bear to pull them all the way out. They pressed back in as deep as they could go. “You can tell me if it’s something you want.”

Obi-Wan made a noise of assent and hooked an arm around Qui-Gon’s back, hand curling up over his shoulder, just to give himself something to hold on to.

“I’d like to make you come now, like this.” Qui-Gon’s fingers slid almost all the way out on his next glide so that he could toy gently with Obi-Wan’s rim before thrusting back in. Obi-Wan felt the air punch out of his lungs as those fingers pressed, firm and precise, against his prostate. “Then, after I’ve managed to bring you back to hardness, I should like to very slowly and very _thoroughly_ fuck you through this mattress.”

There was always something about hearing Qui-Gon say such things, with his measured words and syllables, that threatened to undo Obi-Wan completely. “ _Please_ ,” was all he managed to get out around the slow advance and retreat of Qui-Gon’s fingers, but it was enough. 

Qui-Gon shifted, urging Obi-Wan to rock forward so that his cock was thrusting tightly between their stomachs, bumping up against Qui-Gon’s own length and leaving wet trails wherever it touched. “There,” Qui-Gon said softly when Obi-Wan choked out a sound. His fingers were rubbing persistently at Obi-Wan’s prostate, now, and thrusting so shallowly that the pressure never truly eased.

It took only a few more slow thrusts forward against Qui-Gon’s stomach while those fingers kept working inside him. He came between them, breathing hard, with Qui-Gon murmuring encouragement in a low tone all the while.

When the world coalesced around him once more, it was to the soft, warm feel of Qui-Gon’s fingers rubbing once more against his hole. Obi-Wan felt his limbs tremble a little at the oversensitivity, but he shifted into it rather than away. There were few things that ranked higher for him than being fully overwhelmed by Qui-Gon’s touch.

“I won’t go back in again until you tell me to,” Qui-Gon said, his words stirring Obi-Wan’s hair. His fingers had easily picked up the same maddening rhythm as before, tracing around and over but never in. The touch was calm and sure, but Obi-Wan could feel the hardness still pressed against him and the uneven rise and fall of Qui-Gon’s chest.

He was just thinking of imploring _now, please now_ when Qui-Gon’s voice sounded again. “We can stay like this, if you like. Or you can go to your stomach, so I could watch.”

Blood rushed in Obi-Wan’s ears, and he had to compel himself not to roll over comically fast. Every time he thought Qui-Gon had revealed all of the ways he could possibly take Obi-Wan to pieces, Obi-Wan was proven wrong. He had admitted, once, how much he loved the feel of Qui-Gon’s eyes on him, the way Qui-Gon’s voice roughened when he had Obi-Wan spread out before him so.

And Qui-Gon had an impeccable memory.

Obi-Wan settled onto his front and reached to pull Qui-Gon's pillow across the bed to press his face against, breathing deeply to sate himself on Qui-Gon's smell. He felt Qui-Gon move down his body, stopping to press a kiss to his shoulders, his spine, the small of his back. Then he was pulling Obi-Wan open, and the thumb of one hand dipped back to resume its slow exploration.

He made a sound of protest when Qui-Gon’s thumb lifted away a moment later, but it cut instantly short at the gentle press of lips, a hint of slick tongue, the feel of Qui-Gon’s beard against delicate skin. The thumb came back to brush roughly, _softly_ against his opening, to be replaced again in turn with a warm, wet glide.

That was it. “In,” Obi-Wan chanted, his hands shoving up beneath the pillow and clenching spasmodically in the sheets as he struggled to draw breath. “In, in, in.”

Qui-Gon's thumb reappeared to drag carefully back and forth. “You’ll have to be more specific. Which is it you want in you—my fingers or my tongue?”

Obi-Wan dug his feet into the mattress, his toes curling. “Both.” Already he could feel his cock starting to harden again, and with it the heady rush of knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Qui-Gon was making good on the second part of his morning agenda.

“Eventually.” He could hear the satisfied smile in Qui-Gon’s voice, the hoarse edge to it, and it was enough for Obi-Wan to grind his hips a little desperately into the mattress for any friction he could find. “One to start with, I think.”

In the end, it wasn’t a difficult decision, given that he’d had one of them more recently than the other. “Your tongue,” Obi-Wan managed, and Qui-Gon slowly licked into him.

It wasn’t long before that tongue was joined by a searching finger, nor was it long after _that_ before Qui-Gon was reaching a hand between Obi-Wan’s body and the bed to trace the straining shape of his cock.

When he spoke again, Qui-Gon’s voice was like gravel. “I believe I said something about fucking you through this mattress.”

Obi-Wan, hysterically and somewhat nonsensically, wanted to laugh.

The poor, unoffending mattress didn’t stand a chance against Qui-Gon Jinn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just…I just like the idea of Qui-Gon telling Obi-Wan what he wants to do to him, okay?
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Wednesday!
> 
> I'm [treescape](https://treescape.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. I don't blog much to be honest but I do take prompts!


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